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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928150">Prep Work</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angie13/pseuds/Angie13'>Angie13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:00:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>466</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angie13/pseuds/Angie13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunting monsters isn't always glamorous stuff and big shoot-outs.  (A wee bit of cursing, no specific time frame)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Prep Work</h2></a>
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    <p>“I don’t know, Dean.  This feels pretty fucked up and wrong.”  </p><p>“I know, Sam.  I’m open to better ideas if you have any.”  Grimacing, he drew the blade over the skin of his upper forearm, careful to keep it crossways and not go too deep into the flesh beneath.  Ruby red blood immediately bloomed on the surface and caught amongst the fine hair and seemed to color the blade itself as it flowed along the metal.  He pressed the blade flat against the cut.  “Bottle?  Come on, Sam.  Don’t be a wuss.  I don’t want to have to cut myself open again.”</p><p>Sam handed over the bottle in silence but his gaze never wavered as Dean gritted his teeth and pressed the rolled edge of the bottle’s mouth against the cut.  Gravity combined with the pressure and blood began to trickle down the smooth glass.  As it pooled slowly at the bottom, Dean deliberately controlled his breathing.  Slow in, slow out.  He stared straight ahead.  </p><p>Without a word, Sam dug out the first aid kit from the duffle bag beside him.  He started to prep a bandage and antiseptic.  The silence drew out, interrupted only by the low hiss of Dean’s breath.  Finally, teeth gritting at the quiet, Sam snorted and dropped the items in his hand onto his lap.  “I’m correcting myself.  This is not just fucked up and wrong.  This is stupid,”</p><p>“I know where to cut, Sam.  It’s not like I’m damaging myself.”  Dean cracked a sudden grin.  “I’m not gonna pass out on you.”</p><p>“If you do, I’m not catching you.  Dumb ass.”</p><p>Dean glanced at the bottle.  About an inch of cooling, darkening blood filled the bottom.  “You bet I am.  I mean, come on.  Look what I’m doing.  Making myself bait for freakin’ vampires.”  He motioned to the first aid gear in Sam’s hands with his chin.  “I’m an idiot.  Now get that stuff ready.  I’m taking away the bottle.”</p><p>The transfer was swift and seamless, the practice of hundreds of wounds both small and large in the after care as Sam rinsed the area, swabbed antiseptic along the cut, and then pressed a folded pad of sterile cotton along the angry red line.  He began winding gauze around it to hold it all in place.  “I just thought of something.”</p><p>“Yeah?”  Dean almost winced as San pulled the bandage tight and fastened it.</p><p>Sam looked up to meet his brother’s eyes, his face ever so solemn.  “What if they think you taste like shit?”</p><p>“Well…”  Dean cocked his head to one side as if considering the question.  Then a slow, wicked smile curved his mouth.  “I guess we’ll just have to cut you up then.” </p><p>He was laughing even before the pillow Sam threw hit him in the face.</p>
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